


Innocent Heart

by VespidaeQueen



Series: A Dead Man's Heart [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VespidaeQueen/pseuds/VespidaeQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders takes a day off from his work at the clinic to spend time with Hawke. Justice disapproves. Sidestory to <i>A Dead Man's Heart</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocent Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the kinkmeme prompt: _Sooo, Anon has had this scenario in her head for ages now, and has finally decided it must be shared. In my head, F!Hawke (any class) and Anders are in an established relationship, and are quite happy about it; totally and completely in love. For one afternoon, even though he knows he should probably be at the clinic, or writing his manifesto, or participating in some other act toward the freedom of mages, Anders instead decides to spend some much needed time with his Hawke. Queue Justice not having any of that, and being an all around stick in the mud; manifesting, and interrupting a fluffy romantic moment. However instead of being put off by it, Hawke attempts to quell his obvious unrest, and totally catching out favorite grumpy spirit off guard with surprise fluffy romantic time—maybe she kisses him, tells him she loves him because he is a part of Anders, or some other fluffy act. And suddenly, Justice doesn’t mind so much that Anders is spending some time with Hawke._

 “You know,” Hawke says, cuddled up next to Anders on the couch, head resting against his shoulder and legs stretched out along the cushions, “I rather missed this.”

“Mmm?” She's obviously caught him off guard, his mouth full of a pie at the moment. He swallows quickly. “Ah, yes? Missed what?”

She tips her head back so that she can see him, and she doesn't resist the impulse to poke him. “You know what. You. Here. Tea and coffee and baked goods, and eating delicious little sandwiches while we read Varric's newest novel together.”

“You're forgetting the cuddling,” he asks, tipping his head down and kissing the crown of her head.

“The cuddling _is_ nice,” she admits. “Quite wonderful, actually. Better than the coffee.”

“ _Nothing_ is better than the coffee,” he says playfully, and she bats at his knee with her hand.

“You coffee person. It's all about the tea. The delicious,  _delicious_ tea.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“So are you.” She turns herself about so that she is fully facing him. “I'm just glad you're here,” she says, less of a flirtatious note in her voice than before. “I know you need to be at your clinic -”

“We're not worrying about that today.” Anders runs a hand over her hair, fingers catching in a tangle and gently tugging until it is gone. “I'm spending today with  _you_ . Drinking coffee.”

“And tea.”

“And tea,” he says, a smile curving his lips, and he leans down to press his mouth to hers.

She tastes coffee and the slightest traces of sugar on his lips, the touch of his tongue against her lips and she parts them, gripping at his shirt to pull herself closer. His hands skim over her shoulders, her breasts, her ribs, until they come to rest at her waist, tugging her up and partially into his lap.

She is losing herself in the feel of his mouth on hers, his hands as they slip lower, the beat of his heart as she finds herself on top of him, pressed close to him, when he suddenly turns his head away from her, hands coming to grip her arms and push her away.

Hawke sits back, one leg slipping from to the floor, the other trapped between him and the back of the couch,. She is about to ask him what is wrong when she sees the familiar flicker of blue lick across his skin, and when he turns his head back she sees blue light instead of the warm, brown eyes that she loves so much.

“ _This is not productive_ ,” he says, his voice deep, and she can just barely hear the echo of Anders' voice over that which indicates the presence of the spirit that lives within him. “ _This is a distraction and is not permissible._ ”

“Hello, Justice,” she say, a little perturbed at the sudden appearance, but not particularly surprised. Justice has always been the wild card in their relationship, and this is not the first time that he has interrupted them in something. “I haven't seen you in awhile.”

“ _We cannot be here,”_ the spirit continues, speaking through Anders' mouth. “ _There are things we must do_ .  _We_ cannot _afford distractions_ .”

“You can afford a day to rest,” she tells him. She knows that Justice does not fully understand the limits of a human body, and, truthfully, she does not expect a Fade spirit to. But she has seen enough of Anders' exhaustion firsthand to know that he  _needs_ to rest. To have a day off from everything that he and Justice force themselves to do.

“ _We cannot be here_ ,” Justice repeats, and tries to push himself upward. He is trapped by Hawke who is seated upon his lower body. “ _There are things to do_ .”

“Justice,” she says, resting her hands on his chest, stilling his movements. “ _Please_ . Just give Anders today. Tomorrow, the two of you can go off and write manifestos to your hearts' content, or stay out until two at your clinic. But if you allow him today off to rest, then he  _probably_ won't fall asleep in the middle of writing like he did the other day.”

Justice is silent for a moment, and while it is hard to read his face when his eyes are so obscured by blue light, she thinks that he looks thoughtful.

 

“ _There have been...more than a few occasions where we have fallen asleep in the middle of something of importance,_ ” he admits, his brows drawing together in a somewhat confused expression. “ _It is...inconvenient. Perhaps there is something faulty with this body_ .”

“That's what happens to human bodies when they don't get time off,” she says. “And when they stay up until past midnight everyday with little food writing manifestos.”

“ _They are very important documents_ ,” Justice insists, though he sounds a little less certain.

“Sleep and food are also very important.”

“ _But_ this _is more than sleep and food,”_ he says, gesturing to indicate their situation. “ _I am familiar with sleep_ .  _This is not sleep_ .”

“ _This_ ,” she says, a little amused at his observation, “is two people who care about one another spending time together.”

_“This is a frivolous activity_ .  _There is no greater purpose behind it_ .”

Hawke sighs. She does not particularly care to explain all of this to Justice, particularly because she is not certain that he will understand. “Justice, do you know how Anders was feeling before you took over just a moment ago?”

Justice frowns, considering this question. “ _He was...happy. Content_ .” He pauses. “ _There is...some value in that, I suppose_ . _Still. There are more important things to do.”_

“This can be important,” she says. She knows that he will never quite understand; from everything that Anders has told her, Justice does not think as a human would. And he cannot comprehend why humans do the things they do, because he  _isn't_ human. “If Anders is happy, then he can work. But if he wears himself out, if he takes no time at all for himself...well.”

There is another long pause. “ _You are a very confusing human_ .”

He doesn't understand. At least, not enough.

“Please, can you just let him have today?” she asks him.

There is another long silence, where Justice looks at her. She stays perfectly still, perched atop him, waiting for him respond.

“ _That is...acceptable_ ,” he finally says, and Hawke practically grins at that.

“ _Oh_ , thank you, Justice,” she says and, without giving much thought to the action, leans down and kisses him.

He goes very still beneath her, and she remembers that this is not something that he is used to. She keeps the kiss brief, the lightest of touches, and then draws back just the slightest bit, their faces only a few inches apart.

“ _I...do not understand_ ,” Justice says.

“It's called a kiss, Justice.”

If she is reading his expression correctly, she would say that it is tinged with annoyance. “ _I know what it is called. But I do not know why you would kiss_ me _when Anders is not -”_

“ _Justice_ .” She presses another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, stopping his words. “Haven't we already determine that I don't dislike you?”

“ _But you care for Anders more_ .” The deep rumble of his voice seems softer, almost.

“I care for both of you,” she says. “ _Both_ of you. So you can stop being jealous.”

“ _I am_ not _jealous_ ,” Justice says, sounding rather affronted.

Hawke knows better than to call him a liar, even in jest, and so she simply smiles and steals a third kiss. This time Justice responds, lips moving clumsily against hers, so uncertain of what he is doing.

 

It is so very different from kissing Anders; the mage is full of so much passion, kisses that alternately bruise and tease, some sweet and some far more desperate. His is the sort to make her knees go weak and to leave her breathless.

Kissing Justice is so reminiscent of the first kisses she had ever had, awkward and tentative, but so,  _so_ sweet. Like the first boy she had ever kissed, no knowledge of where to do with his tongue or where to put his hands – he eventually sets the latter just above her waist, holding her like she's going to break if he applies any pressure.

She keeps her eyes closed, the light that breaks through his skin too bright this close up, and she is pressed close enough to him that she can feel the rapid patter of his heart.

It is so hard to think of this Justice as the one who arises out of Anders' anger – though she shouldn't try to think about it too much. Anders, Justice, Vengeance – there are too many different facets, and if she tries to define every subtle difference she will only become terribly frustrate.

Still, Justice kisses her with such sweet innocence that it takes her breath away.

It is in the middle of one of these kisses that it changes, his arms sliding around her and his kisses turn more playful. She opens her eyes to find Anders looking at her, his eyes a warm brown once more.

“You just seduced my Fade spirit,” he informs her.

“I did  _not_ ,” Hawke insists. “I was only trying to convince him that you should have a day off.”

“You  _seduced_ him. You're such a temptress.”

“I am  _not_ .”

“He seems a lot happier with this right now,” Anders says, and he's practically  _grinning_ at her.

“ _Well_ ,” she replies, cheekily, “I suppose this is a  _real_ threesome now.”

The look on his face is  _definitely_ one of annoyance. “I told you to stop calling it that.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I'm just a little temptress, aren't I?” And then, an even more wicked through crosses her mind. She moves her hands from his chest, sliding them lower and lower, until they dance over his ribs and stomach.

He gives a very undignified squeak “ _Hawke!_ ”

“I'm sorry, what?”

He tries to get away from her fingers and tips them both off the edge of the couch. They tumble to the ground and she finds their positions reversed.

“Your fault,” he tells her with a rather impish grin, his body pinning hers to the ground, their legs tangled.

“ _Sure_ . I'm not the one who fell off the couch.”

“Well, technically, we  _both_ fell of the couch.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, feeling incredibly childish doing so, and he responds by dipping down and kissing her deeply, until she is breathless.

“Remind me to thank Justice,” she tells him as she tries to catch her breath.

Anders kiss the tip of her nose, the draws back, a smile on his lips. “I think you already have.”

 


End file.
